


Make the Yuletide Gay

by LacrimaDraconis



Series: Unconnected Holiday Fics [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Did I mention fluff?, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Pack Family, Sterek Secret Santa, with a tiny slice of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 07:03:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LacrimaDraconis/pseuds/LacrimaDraconis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s bizarre. The whole idea is bizarre and nothing can convince Stiles otherwise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make the Yuletide Gay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stayingputwouldbeablunder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stayingputwouldbeablunder/gifts).



> My unbetaed contribution for the Sterek Secret Santa 2013 over on tumblr, which you should check out. There's a lot of lovely stuff. Written for stayingputwouldbeablunder, who requested pack family and Sheriff Stilinski. I tried.

 

It’s bizarre. The whole idea is bizarre and nothing can convince Stiles otherwise, because seriously? All of them together for a whole half of this random Tuesday a week before Christmas. “For fun”, as Scott puts it. Scott, Isaac, Allison, Lydia, Stiles, Derek and later even his Dad and Scott’s mom would join. And nobody seems to expect any killing sprees but tons of fun instead? Yeah, not going to happen. If someone would ask him to bet his money on it, Stiles would go with awkward. Partially awkward at least, what with Derek being back, Scott being a new Alpha, Isaac being with Allison, his Dad being in the know and Stiles being… himself. He is the epitome of awkward anyway, especially so around Derek these days, so he will probably be okay.

The plan is to take their merry little band of werewolves and humans and go to the first annual Beacon Hills Holiday market together. And as if that wasn’t enough, afterwards there’s supposed to be dinner and game night at the Stilinski household. Pack bonding – Scott’s words not his – but still. At least the twins were not invited. Stiles doesn’t want anything to do with them and if Derek is there, it would be a whole world of wrong. It’s bound to be weird either way, but Scott had set his mind on it and seemed so excited about his idea that Stiles simply didn’t have the heart to tell him no.

The air is crisp and clean when Stiles steps outside, a distant promise of snow and the smell of the near forest tickling his nose. He draws a deep breath, deciding to leave the Jeep in the driveway and make his way over to the town center on foot instead. It is still light around this time of day and rumors had it there was mulled wine available at the market. Stiles is set on persuading someone to get a mug for him as a pre-evening thank you because really, he deserves it. His Dad had made him clean the living room and the kitchen because “If Melissa is going to cook for all of us here it should at least be clean, son.” Which isn’t exactly untrue. Stiles had even gone on a mission to get every board game he could find down from the attic, which had made quite an impressive - and dusty - stack. He’s a master at Monopoly and the others should be prepared. Stiles isn’t entirely sure that Derek, or Isaac for that matter, actually know about the concept of board games at all, but they would have to deal.

Stiles had been surprised that Derek hadn’t declined his offer when he first invited the whole group. He had appeared only slightly uncomfortable at the thought of spending the better part of a whole day with a bunch of teenagers and their parents and Stiles kind of gets that. Things had been awkward with Derek for a little while, but Stiles had been – and still is – relieved to have Derek back. Even when he doesn’t technically know why. He likes Derek. To be honest, Stiles can’t really pinpoint the exact moment he had realized Derek is actually important to him. Important to him as a person, someone he cares about and someone he maybe likes a little more than he dares to admit. Maybe much more than he _should_ dare to admit. There probably was only so much mutual life saving you could do without being affected, Stiles guesses, at least for his seventeen year old self. Yes, he and Derek get along pretty well and yes, they are closer than ever before. Friends even, but nothing more. It doesn’t matter either way and Stiles pushes the thought resolutely away when the holiday market comes into view.

Obviously he is the last to arrive as everyone else is already waiting for him, but nobody appears to be annoyed about it. Derek is indeed there, wearing his everpresent leather jacket and just a Henley underneath because ugh, stupid werewolves and their stupid body heat. He is talking to Isaac but looks up when Stiles approaches the group, a small smile tugging at his lips. Stiles’ traitorous heart skips a beat and… yeah, so not going there. Nope. That way lies madness, no matter how pretty Derek’s eyes are. Stiles brusquely turns to exchange his custom handshake with Scott instead.

It turns out to be a good afternoon though, the slowly darkening sky adds to the festive atmosphere produced by the lights and seasonal decorations around the little market huts, the soft melodies of Christmas carols floating over their heads. It’s _nice_. Mulled wine and spiked eggnog make Stiles feel loose and content and a little fuzzy around the edges. Everything is so _nice_.

“You’re drunk buddy,” Scott tells him bumping his shoulder, but Stiles only sways into him slightly in return.

“Nah man, I’m good. A little buzzed, yes, but it’s just getting a little too crowded for my taste.” He can feel the big grin plastered on his face, the alcohol making him stare at his best friend with what must be a disgustingly fond look. Lydia rolls her eyes at them.

“If you two are done having a moment, let’s please go over there. It’s fire dancers and they look remotely more interesting than the rest of this market.” She points at something obscured by too many people gathering around it, somewhere over her shoulder and starts tugging Alison along with her, immediately followed by both Scott and Isaac, and Stiles watches his four friends disappearing into the crowd quickly.

Stiles hesitates. He is not drunk, barely even tipsy, but too many people in a small space make him nervous. He feels jittery all of a sudden, his skin stretching too thin as if it cannot contain the darkness in his heart any longer, anxiety humming, vibrating deep inside his body making his head spin and buzz like spiked eggnog never could. Everyone stares at him, their faces turning dark as hollow shadows start closing in on him. There is nothing nice about this place anymore.

He staggers back, trying to suppress the unwanted image when a warm hand curls around his neck, thumb stroking his skin softly with a feather light touch. Derek is right in front of him, blocking the view of too many people around him, calming him. “Okay?” he asks quietly after a moment and Stiles can only stare at Derek before he pulls himself together and nods. “Yeah, it’s okay.” His voice croaks slightly and he feels a flush spreading over his face.

“Wanna go?” Derek asks, eyebrows raised and Stiles feels sheepish for hesitating still, but then the decision is taken out of his hands. Quite literally as Derek’s hand slides down his right arm and Stiles half-expects to be dragged away by a clawed paw around his wrist. Instead Derek takes Stiles’ hand in his and links their fingers, making Stiles’ palm tingle with the contact. Derek doesn’t wait for an answer though and frankly, Stiles isn’t sure he could do more than stare anyway. Because what the hell?! So he lets Derek pull him along, guiding him through the crowd until they reach the others. His hand feels inexplicably cold after Derek’s leaves his, but if the curious glance Alison throws his way is any indicator, the warmth flushing his face makes more than up for it. Stiles clears his throat and deliberately turns towards the spectacle the fire jugglers are making with their dance, oddly aware of Derek’s presence behind him, even when they are not touching anymore.

 

***************

 

Monopoly is a hit with everyone. They negotiate and laugh and argue their way through it, all the while passing cake and Mrs. McCall’s famous Snowflake Cookies between them. Stiles tries to gang up with Allison against his Dad and Derek for two solid hours, but in the end Isaac knocks them all out of the park with such a calculated tactic it surprises everyone.

“Why? How? Man, I hope you’re not going to take accounting and financing classes at college. You’d be one creepy bank guy,” Stiles exclaims trying to get a rise out of him.

“I came to win!” comes the smug reply and it makes Scott snort, obviously having heard this before. Stiles wants to ask, but Isaac looks so happy, he decides to just let him be and starts clearing off the table instead.

It’s late-ish already when eventually everyone starts packing up their things, Melissa handing out boxes of leftovers, Stiles’ Dad getting ready to leave for the night shift. Lydia has already left and Scott, Allison and Isaac are climbing into the backseat of the police cruiser, but Derek seems to linger. Obviously not only Stiles notices.

“You need a ride Derek?”

“No, I’ll help Stiles with the dishes and then walk home. That’s better after all that food.”

Stiles can’t see it since he’s perched over the sink in the kitchen, but he assumes his Dad must nod his okay because shortly after he hears the car leaving and the soft click of his front door closing.

“Hey,” he mumbles, turning around from the dishes only a little, when Derek comes into the kitchen. He doesn’t reply, but Stiles feels him brush against his shoulder when he grabs for a towel and silently starts drying the plates and spoons Stiles hands him.

It’s weird actually, how not weird this is between them, this display of domesticity in Stiles’ kitchen. Stiles has been through enough awkward moments in his life, he knows everything about polite, stilted conversation and strained silence, but this definitely isn’t that. It’s comfortably quiet in a way that doesn’t urge Stiles to fill the void with chatter and words just to make the awkward go away. Probably for the first time ever, Stiles is a little sad when he eventually puts the last plate back onto the shelf.

There is absolutely no reason for Derek to stay any longer after they are done. They make their way over to the living room and Derek… hovers, for lack of a better word, worrying the leather jacket between his fingers and looking at Stiles with an expression he doesn’t recognize. He doesn’t think anyone has ever looked at him like that before. Something constricts in Stiles’ chest at the sight and he can’t shake the feeling that Derek, for whatever inexplicable reason, doesn’t seem to want to leave. Not that Stiles would want him to leave, no Sir!

“You should stay,” he blurts out just when Derek points a thumb over his shoulder and murmurs

“I should go.”

“I… we could watch a movie? I planned on watching something anyway. National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation? Which you probably don’t know and if you do, you probably don’t like it,”

“Stiles,”

“And I know it’s silly, but I used to watch it with my Mom every Christmas when Dad was on the late shift and we laughed a lot and... yeah. Shutting up now.”

Newsflash, Stiles rambles when he’s nervous. He likes to believe it’s one of his more charming character traits, thank you very much. Maybe Derek thinks so too because he’s rolling his eyes at Stiles, hard, but there’s also a grin threatening to take over his face and something in his eyes looking suspiciously like fondness and Stiles is a little stunned.

“I know it, Stiles. And I like it.”

It’s a deal then, and they settle on the couch next to each other after Stiles has popped in the DVD. They don’t sit down as closely pressed together as Stiles might have secretly hoped for, but not exactly on opposite ends either. Stiles can’t sit still though and starts fidgeting and no it’s not the couch, his couch is fine, but this is the closest he has ever gotten to a movie date and the realization that he’s sitting here with Derek of all people and yeah, he’s hit with the utter bizarreness of the situation once again. Derek shoots him a glare and opens his mouth to probably throw an insult at Stiles’ head, but then he closes it again and grabs Stiles’ ankles instead. Stiles doesn’t squeak in surprise, absolutely doesn’t, when Derek places his feet in his lap and holds them there firmly.

“Stop squirming and watch.”

“Sourwolf,” Stiles mutters indignantly, but he can feel himself finally relax into the cushions when Derek absently starts stroking his thumb over his ankle a few moments later.

 

**************

 

It’s almost two in the morning, when Stiles wakes up to Derek gently shaking his shoulder and wow, he must have fallen asleep somewhere between the pool scene and the turkey disaster. He fumbles his way out of the blanket – which he very much doesn’t remember throwing over himself, by the way – stretches and gets up to follow Derek who had obviously been staring at Stiles but then abruptly turned around heading for the front door.

Stiles shivers when the cool night air hits him as he steps outside on the porch.

“I had fun tonight, so… thanks for staying? I guess?” Derek has his back to him though, looking up at the clear night sky, but before Stiles has a chance to ask he turns around.

“Shooting stars,” Derek explains, looking a little sheepish and Stiles groans.

“Of course, because my life couldn’t get any more bad romance novel style.”

“It couldn’t?” Derek asks, a mocking smirk tugging at his lips as he raises his head and looks pointedly at a spot on the door above Stiles’ head. Stiles is suddenly mortified.

“No. Please tell me he didn’t. Tell me my Dad, the Sheriff, did not hang up mistletoe on his front door just to make the life of his only son more miserable.”

Derek looks hesitant only for a second and then he steps close to Stiles, ignoring the concept of personal space completely. He feels a hand wrap around his waist and another curl around the back of his head, pulling him even closer until their faces are only inches apart.

“No, he didn’t.” Derek whispers and then his lips are pressing against Stiles’ anyway.

It’s a gentle kiss, almost chaste with soft lips brushing his mouth and Derek’s tongue carefully opening him up, pressing inside and stroking softly against his own. He knows Derek is giving him an out here, always leaving the decision to Stiles to stop this. Ha, as if! He slides his arms up Derek’s sides and around his shoulders instead, pressing closer, anchoring himself and reassuring Derek, who responds with a tiny little noise in the back of his throat that makes Stiles _want_. He feels overwhelmed, like drowning in the best way possible as his entire world narrows down to Derek and himself on his front porch.

It ends way too soon and Stiles is only slightly embarrassed of the little whimper he lets out when Derek eventually steps away from him. He even dares to smirk, smugly, but it softens to a smile when he reaches up to gently brush his knuckles against Stiles’ cheek.

“See you tomorrow?” he asks and Stiles nods enthusiastically.

“Absolutely,” he answers and then his eyes don’t leave Derek until he turns around the corner at the end of the street. He steps inside and closes the door, humming happily. He will definitely have himself a merry little Christmas. And if that includes making the yuletide gay – fine by him.

 

THE END.

**Author's Note:**

> The fluffiest thing I've ever written, and no, I'm not sorry for the title. Come say hi on tumblr if you like. http://lacrimadraconis.tumblr.com


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